


George on Ice

by bubbleqxeen



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, Cats, Competition, Dream is Victor, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, George is Yuuri, Getting Together, Hotels, Ice Skating, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Panic Attacks, Self-Esteem Issues, Slow Burn, World Figure Skating Championships, World Travel, sapnap is a good friend
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-13
Updated: 2021-01-13
Packaged: 2021-03-17 05:09:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,044
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28719414
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bubbleqxeen/pseuds/bubbleqxeen
Summary: At age 24, George was nearing the end of his ice skating career. As Britain's most aspiring figure skater, the weight on his back only grew after failing yet another Grand Prix. However, after a surprise offer was given to him from the world's most prominent skater, George gained a renewed sense of hope.Imagine Yuri on Ice, but completely rewritten as characters from the Dream SMP.
Relationships: Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF)
Comments: 22
Kudos: 42





	George on Ice

**Author's Note:**

> hi guys! 
> 
> this is my first dnf fic, so any comments or criticism would be so helpful :)
> 
> if ANY people involved are uncomfortable or unhappy, this will be deleted immediately. this is being written as something to do in lockdown and as writing practice, and is not meant to be taken seriously. please do not ship the characters irl!
> 
> This work is HEAVILY inspired by Yuri on Ice, and will basically be rewritten as the anime- except with the Dream SMP characters instead :) it will be slightly different though, so as to not be a direct copy.

**Sochi Grand Prix Final 2019 - Russia**

"And this will be the third consecutive Grand Prix win for America's favourite, Dream!" The main reporter called as Dream skated into the middle of the rink, "At only 21 years old, Dream was apparently already considering retirement from figure skating, but tonight's performance seems to have proven those accusations wrong!" 

_Dream, real name unknown, is a world-renowned figure skater from Florida, USA. He rose to the limelight when he won back-to-back gold medals in the Junior division, before placing first in the Senior division three times in a row. He's well known for his hidden appearance, of which only his teammates and coach are said to have seen. Dream's mysterious nature is what draws people to him, and he uses it as his way of boosting his popularity by teasing face reveals amongst other things._

Dream bowed dramatically, shooting the audience a cheeky grin from behind his mask as he stood back up. He always loved the commentary, loved hearing the latest drama and gossip surrounding him. It was clear his fellow competitors didn't, however, judging by Techno's scowl and Eret's fake smile. Dream ignored them, though, his heart still too light and full of pride as the crowd surrounding him continued to sing his praises. 

"As for first-timer George Davidson, who earned a spot for Great Britain for the first time at 24 years old, came last today." The reporter continued, looking down at his chart carefully.

"Unfortunate, too." The journalist next to him sighed, "He had such promise as well, and at his age, he really needed that win." 

"Oh, right!" The reporter lit up at the mention, his grin turning somewhat devious, "He won't be able to qualify soon, right?"

"Yeah," The other continued, "Anyways, let's move onto the female finalists..."

******************

_George Davidson, a 24-year-old figure skater from London, GB. George rose to stardom once he began to win various large competitions in his home country, before eventually going worldwide. He's known to be fairly introverted and shy due to his anxiety but becomes lively and extroverted once you get to know him. George feels at peace on the ice, it supposedly being the one place able to numb his mind._

George exhaled shakily as he flicked through Twitter, wincing whenever he saw a certain tweet mentioning his failure. His mental health had been shittier than normal recently, having lost his pet- and so he lacked his usual confidence and ability to escape his mind. His head was instead an anxious mess, criticising him for every small movement and expression he made. His skates had felt like shackles keeping him chained to the ice with no escape. 

Essentially, he panicked and fucked up. 

"George!" His coach, Bad, cried as he made grabby hands at his phone, "Don't read any of those! You know it's not true."

"They are, Bad." George whispered, his eyes turning glassy with barely restrained tears, "They're all right, I'm a screw-up."

"That's just not true, George," Bad patted his shoulder in an attempt at comfort, "It hurts that you don't know how amazing you truly are."

George stood up and pocketed his phone, forcing a smile onto his face as his friend's concern, "Let's just go home, yeah? I'm sure you wanna get back."

Bad sighed at his attempt to change the subject, but allowed it nonetheless, "Sure, it'll be nice to see Rat again after so long. I'll go grab our stuff."

George nodded, watching as Bad walked away before dashing to the bathroom. He slammed the stall door shut, sliding down it until he was leaning against it in a foetal position. His phone buzzed incessantly in his pocket, a constant reminder of his failure. Tears unsurprisingly came dripping down his face until eventually, he was silently sobbing into his arms. 

All his hard work and training, all his effort, gone to waste. He pictured his friend's saddened faces, his parent's anxious faces as they watched the news and Bad's secret disappointment in him. George had specifically moved to a school in the States, just so he could be professionally trained for this one competition. He had studied his Computer Science degree tirelessly alongside several hours a day practice.

And it had all gone to waste in an instant.

George pulled out his phone, speed dialling his friend in an urgency he had never felt before, "Sapnap?"

"George?"

"Hi," George sniffled, rubbing his eyes angrily, "Have you seen the news?"

"Yeah," Sapnap murmured carefully, "It's not your fault, you know that, right?"

"Yes, it is!" George whispered angrily, "If only I wasn't so caught up in my stupid fucking head-"

"Hey!" Sapnap yelled, startling him out of his thoughts, "You're panicking, Georgie. You need to calm down and take some deep breaths."

George hadn't even noticed how erratically his heart was beating or how laboured his breathing had become. His phone shook in his hand dangerously as the call screen in front of him became blurry. George took a deep breath, focusing on Sapnap's soothing voice as his mind began to settle. He hated panicking in front of his friends, the guilt and embarrassment from doing so eating away from his insides. 

"You good now?" Sapnap asked, his tone gentle, "I mean it when I say that it wasn't your fault."

"Yeah," George sniffled again, his head leaning back on the cool metal door, "Thanks."

"Anytime, man," Sapnap replied, "So, how was it seeing your idol in person for the first time?"

"Sapnap!" George yelled, his face flushing red.

George had had a _slight_ infatuation with Dream for a while now, admiring the way the younger put his all into his skating and how quickly he rose to the top. He'd been caught many times watching his videos on his youtube channel, gaining inspiration for his own dances from them. To say he admired him was an understatement if the piles of his merch he had in his dorm room were anything to go off of. 

"I'm just teasing," Sapnap chuckled, "But you should really try to talk to him, you never know if you'll get the chance to again."

"Oh please," George scoffed, closing his eyes, "As if he'd wanna talk to a loser like me."

"Shut up," Sapnap groaned, "Anyone would be lucky to get to talk to you."

"Stop it," George blushed, "I gotta go, Bad's waiting for me. I'll text you tomorrow!"

"Alright, dude," Sapnap replied before quickly shouting, "Love you!"

"Yeah yeah, love you too." George snickered.

He reopened his eyes slowly, staring at the flickering light above of him. He had no clue what he was going to do after this, his mind filled with thoughts of failing yet another competition. He banged his head against the door, slightly enjoying the way the pain numbed his brain for a bit. George opened his camera, quickly fixing his hair so he didn't look as though he'd just had a breakdown, before dusting off his clothes.

Just as he was about to stand up, a harsh kick was landed on the door, shaking his entire body from the vibrations.

"The fuck-" George shouted as he opened the door before being interrupted.

"You! You stupid colourblind fuck," A boy seemingly younger than him yelled, glaring at him like he was a piece of steaming trash.

"Who are you?" George scowled.

"Tommy," He replied stonily, "Y'know, the guy who just came first in the Junior section?"

Tommy Innit, the gold medalist from the Junior department. George had luckily never had the displeasure of meeting him until now, his foul language a common complaint of Bad's whenever he mentioned other coaches and their competitors. The kid was generally well-liked amongst most people who could ignore profanity, just a displeasure to be around when he was mad or upset. George didn't understand what he had done to be on the guy's bad side despite having never met him. 

"Oh," George blinked before hardening his expression again, "Can I help you?"

"I'm competing in the senior division next year," Tommy smirked, "We don't need two British competitors."

"How is that my problem?" George rolled his eyes, pushing past the younger as he headed towards the sinks.

"You should drop out," Tommy shrugged, nonplussed by the sass, "People as incompetent as you don't deserve to get to compete." 

"Wow, thanks" George sighed as he finished washing his hands

He pretended like the comment didn't hurt.

"You're welcome," Tommy grinned, "Anyways, just consider it, yeah? I'll beat you regardless." 

"Whatever," George muttered as he stormed out the bathroom, his shoes squeaking noisily on the tiled floor.

George's heart began to pound again as he searched for Bad, his mind racing. What did he gain from challenging the last place winner? Surely the kid was smarter than that. Even if George _was_ last place, he still had the years of experience and training that Tommy didn't. He began jogging faster, desperate to just leave the arena and be home, surrounded by his best friend and cats. He was forced to stop, however, as a voice began calling for him. 

"Excuse me, George!" Someone shouted.

George looked around in confusion before noticing one of the commentators waving at him wildly. George jogged towards them, confusion clear in his eyes at the reporter's grin. 

"Can I help you, sir?" George asked politely, his hands fidgeting in front of him nervously.

"I just wanted to say, don't give up." The man answered, his thick Russian accent lacing each word, "Please, come back again next year. Despite your loss, you were an amazing competitor to watch."

"Oh, thank you very much," George's ears turned red in embarrassment, "Um, I'll think about it." 

"What will you be doing after this? Will you proceed to study in New York?" The journalist inquired, pulling out his notepad, "Will you continue training? Or will you return home to the UK?"

"Ah," George bit his lip nervously, " I don't really know right now. I'll have to talk to my coach about it."

"George," The journalist paused to stare deeply into his eyes, "I'm asking what _you_ want to do, not your coach."

"I'm sorry, I really have to get going!" George turned around to look for Bad again, "I'll miss my plane."

"Oh," The journalist sighed disappointedly as he tucked away his notepad, "Maybe next year."

**************

George exhaled in relief as he spotted Bad on his phone near the exit, his suitcases and skates leant up against the wall carefully. George was so grateful that Bad never pushed him or asked questions that he knew George wouldn't want to answer- it made him feel so lucky to have a friend like him. 

"Bad!" George called desperately, "Can we leave now? Please?"

"Uh, sure," Bad raised an eyebrow as he ended the call, "Any particular reason why?"

"I'll explain later," George answered, picking up his luggage hurriedly. He was once again thankful for Bad's understanding of George's difficulty with dealing with emotions.

The two were silent for a moment as they piled up their things, George taking his time as he packed his skates into their personal carrier. They were his most prized possession, a gift from the former number one GB skater as a congratulation for getting into the Grand Prix. Yet he was just another person George had failed. Before his thoughts could spiral any further, Bads enthusiastic voice rang out from next to him.

"Oh look, it's Dream!" Bad said excitedly, "Did you wanna say hi, George?"

"No, I'm-" George's voice caught in his throat. 

Dream had heard Bad's announcement and was staring at them curiously. His mask hiding his expression, but his small head tilt gave it away. George shot up, his cheeks once again flushing at the sudden attention. Tommy was glaring at him from behind Dream, his hand discreetly giving him the middle finger. George ignored it though, his attention completely captured by the masked man in front of him. The moment felt like forever, yet it lasted only a few seconds. Dream's mouth began moving, and it took all George had to not move in closer to catch everything he was saying.

"Tommy you really need to work on your step sequence-" Dream instructed, his head turning away from George's direction, "And your facial expressions-"

"Whatever, Dream," Tommy whined, "I won, didn't I? Gimme a break man, jeez."

_Explanation: Whilst the two weren't on the same team or from the same country, Dream often hung out with Tommy's group due to familiar people. Tommy's older brother, Wilbur, was Dream's teammate, Techno's brother (Technoblade and Wilbur are brothers. Techno is Dream's teammate in the US while Wilbur is Tommy's in the UK). However, Techno moved to the states shortly after he became eligible for the senior division, leaving his brothers Tommy and Wilbur to be a part of their Dad and Coach Phil's GB team._

George caught the side of Dream's face as he shrugged and moved towards the exit, his mouth dropping as he caught sight of his golden eyes. They were clearly dimmed from the shade of the mask, but George thought they looked beautiful regardless. Bad softly tapped him on the shoulder, a knowing smirk taking over his features. George didn't bother closing his mouth, his head still fuzzy from the interaction. 

"Didn't you want a photo with him, George?" Bad questioned, a hint of teasing in his voice. 

"H-His eyes," George whispered, "They're..."

"What about them?" Bad's smile dropped, confusion lacing his features.

"They're so pretty," George giggled, "They're really gold."

"Gold?" Bad said slowly, "Oh, you mean green! I always forget about your colourblindness."

"Huh," George exhaled, "Green."

**************

**One Year Later - London, United Kingdom.**

The TV blared loudly behind him, announcing current world standings and events happening in the ice skating world.

_Dream, after placing first once again in last years Grand Prix, went on to win the World Championships- followed by the European Championships. He currently stands as the number one figure skater in the world. Talks are still in question as to whether or not the 21-year-old star will return next year, the skater refusing to give a direct answer when asked, "What will you do next season? Will you enter the next Grand Prix?"_

_"Who knows?" Dream laughed, "Maybe I'll be there, or maybe I'll do something new."_

"Dude," Sapnap groaned, "Turn that shit off, George will be here any second." 

"Oh, my bad," Karl replied, quickly muting the TV.

Just as Sapnap was about to make another remark, their doorbell went off. Sapnap and Karl shared a look before hurrying up to the door. Karl opened it forcefully, the door bashing into the wall. 

"George!" Sapnap yelled, dragging him into his arms frantically, "it's so good to see you."

"Yeah," George chuckled, patting him in the back, "You too."

Karl shuffled past them and went to grab George's stuff, choosing to let Sapnap have the affection first, "Hey George, it's been a while." 

"I know, it's so weird to see you guys again. I'm sorry it took me so long to come visit."

Sapnap led him over to the couch in the next room before helping Karl with the bags, throwing them haphazardly into the hallway. When he came back in, George was staring blankly at the TV, images of Dream and medals flashing on the screen. Karl watched him before proceeding into the kitchen, leaving Sapnap to deal with George's turbulent emotions.

"Hey man," Sapnap gently moved to sit next to him, "What's going on in that massive brain of yours?"

"Nothing really," George forced a smile, "Just jetlag, you know?"

_Explanation: George returned to New York after the Grand Prix, finishing his degree. However, he then returned to his apartment in London, which he is sharing with Karl and Sapnap, who moved in a few days before him. George decided to move into a bigger apartment once Sapnap shared interest in living with him, followed by their online friend Karl._

"I get you, you only need to be up for a bit longer till you can sleep anyways." Sapnap looked back at the clock on their wall. If George didn't wanna talk about it, he wasn't going to make him, "So, how have you been?"

"Ah, okay I guess." George rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly, "I kinda got into a slump after the Prix and got a bit out of shape, so I haven't been skating in a while. How about you guys?"

Karl returned from the kitchen with a few cans of soda, passing them around as he flopped next to George's other side, "We're fine, just getting through college and shit." 

"Oh yeah, you got your degree now, right Gogy?" Sapnap whined, "Lucky bastard, I don't know how I'm gonna get through the next few years." 

"You'll be fine, both of you." George giggled before taking a sip of his drink, "How's Alyssa doing?"

"Well," Karl cringed slightly, "She's... not very happy that you went all AWOL on her." 

"Right," George groaned, "I guess we'll be seeing him later, then." 

"Probably," Karl snorted, bumping his drink into Sapnap's to cheer before drinking, "She's soft on you, though. You'll be fine."

"True," Sapnap rolled his eyes playfully, "You're definitely her favourite." 

"Whatever," George flushed, "How about Niki?"

"Same old," Sapnap shrugged, gulping down his beer like a lifeline, "Desperate for someone to visit the rink."

Suddenly, George's phone rang. He put his drink down carefully before unlocking his phone, grimacing at the caller name. With a sigh, he answered, holding the phone a bit away from his ear in preparation, "Hello?"

"George Davidson!" Alyssa's angry voice rang through the phone, "Where the hell have you been? And why am I _just_ finding out you're back from Twitter of all places?"

"I was going to call you!" George cried, "Really! Things just got... difficult."

"I know," Alyssa's tone softened, "We'll work on it."

"Huh?" George's eyes widened, "what do you mean?2

"I've seen the pictures of you, George," He could feel her eyes narrowing in annoyance through the phone, "If you want to be a champion skater again, we need to get you fit- and fast."

"But I don't even know if I-"

"See you tomorrow, bye!" The call ended abruptly. 

George sat in silence for a moment, staring at his phone in shock. He still wasn't even sure if he wanted to figure skate again, his motivation to do it having lowered each day since the Grand Prix. The men next to him thankfully stayed quiet, letting him think. George couldn't wrap his head around it, even if he began skating again, there's no chance he'd be let into a big competition like the Prix again.

"What're you gonna do?" Sapnap questioned carefully.

"I'll..." George shook his head, "I'll meet her if only to get fitter. Even if I don't figure skate, it'd be nice to stay in shape." 

"I guess so," Karl crushed his empty can in his hand, "We'll support you no matter what, Gogmeister." 

"Thank you." George hesitated before suddenly grinning and standing up, "I need to get moving, my legs hurt after that plane ride."

"Dude, it's 10 pm. Where are you-" Sapnap's eyes widened in realisation, "Oh, have fun." 

"Yeah, I'll try." 

*************

George entered the reception area quietly, his feet padding up to the front desk. He hadn't seen Niki in so long. What if she was mad at him for losing? Or even worse, disappointed in him? He didn't let his mind race, however, as he caught sight of pink hair swishing around in the back. 

"Niki?" George called, tapping the desk nervously. 

"George?" Niki poked her head around the door, "Oh my God! It's so nice to see you."

George shuffled around, eyeing up the old photos on the wall, "Thank you, you too."

"Are you here just to see me, or to skate?" Niki winked jokingly, already heading around to the back again to get him the key to the rink. 

"You already know the answer," George laughed, fiddling with the key after she handed it to him, "Thank you."

"Go ahead, I'll make sure no one bothers you." She grinned, leaning on the desk.

_George has known Niki since they were young, the two of them enrolled in a skating class at the same time. Though she was in the younger group, the two hit it off in cool down sessions and became close friends. She was one of the few that supported his dream from the start and continued to do so well into adulthood. George is extremely grateful to have her as a friend, despite their growing distance over time._

George walked into the rink, nostalgia filling his brain as he stared at the ice that was a second home to him. He sat down on a nearby bench, shifting off his shoes to slip on his skates. As he finished tying them, he caught a flash of something in the corner of his eye but chose to ignore it, He stood up and stretched, fiddling with his music whilst doing so. He decided he'd practice one of Dream's most famous dances to the song he used, called 'Marionette'. 

He slid onto the ice, loosening up at the way his body effortlessly glided around. He skated aimlessly for a few seconds, getting a feel for the ice before pressing play and quickly skating back to the centre of the rink. He got into position, his eyes focusing on the fluorescent lights above him as the music began to start. Flashes of Dream played throughout his mind, following the routine to near perfection. The youtube video was ingrained into his mind, having watched it almost daily since it was released.

He skated backwards, letting his arms gracefully move around in the air, before performing a few minor spins and twirls. He felt his heart rate pick up, the coolness of the ice mixing with the heat from his body melding together to get his blood flowing and his heart pounding. His brain suddenly became numb, Dream and his gold, gold eyes becoming all he could think about. He missed this, the feeling of losing yourself completely to the dance. 

George picked up his pace before flying through the air, successfully landing a Quadruple Lutz. His face lit up with a grin as he skated forwards, feeling his confidence begin to grow. He danced a bit more as the tempo grew, his emotions finally starting to seep into his dance. He then performed Dream's signature move, a Quadruple Flip. His eyes became somewhat glassy as he absorbed himself into the routine, the anger and sadness and _embarrassment_ of the past year flowing freely into his movements.

The music blared behind him, encouraging him to increase his tempo. He spun around, following the sound with his body. His hair was plastered to his forehead with sweat, but he paid it no mind as he focused on his next trick, a Camel Spin. He spun twice, his emotions pouring out of him as he grasped desperately at his leg. He couldn't give up now, not when he was so close to finishing. Tears trickled slowly down his cheeks, landing on the ice with soft taps.

He floated around the rink, feeling _so_ alive as the ice became so smooth beneath him. His troubles faded away, sucking the negativity and bad feelings out of him. His tears soon became ones of joy, the smile on his face only growing at the feeling of being so _free_. George didn't feel like a troubled man anymore, he felt like a bird. He was flying through the sky, nothing in his way as he stretched and reached up towards the ceiling. 

He leapt into a Flying Sit Spin, his body moving automatically as he just let himself go. Memories such as losing the Grand Prix, his argument with Tommy, his friends and families disappointment all flying out in various directions- leaving him be. His body felt lighter, like the weight had been lifted off of him and into the ice, forever lost to the frozen water below. 

George jumped into a Quadruple Salchow as the chorus hit, his arms extending from him like wings. He jumped into a sequence, spinning himself through the air twice before landing with grace and ease. This was home to him, and it felt like he had never left. He continued to glide around the ice, dancing like it would be his last as he twirled and grasped at his chest. 

He jumped into a Triple Lutz, arms splaying above him like an angel descending. He then skated a bit more, the tempo picking up again before he performed a Triple Flip. George failed to see Niki watching him from the sidelines, her mouth open in awe as she watched the boy riddled with fear become overwhelmingly confident. George leapt into a Quadruple Toe Loop, followed by a Triple Toe Loop, his mind reeling with dizziness. 

He then performed a Combination Spin, his final piece, before finishing where he started- staring at those fluorescent lights.

"George!" Niki cried, her hands clapping together proudly, "That was amazing!"

"Huh?" George wheezed, his body heaving up and down in exhaustion.

"You copied Dream perfectly, well done!" Niki praised, ignoring his confusion, "I never thought you'd skate like that again."

"Me neither," George chuckled, "But I'm tired of feeling depressed, so I decided to try skating again."

"And?" She beamed at him, "Do you feel better?"

"Yeah," He sighed in relief, "I really do."

"George!" Puffy cried as she entered the rink, "I was watching you from behind the glass, and you were incredible!"

"You were watching me too?" George flushed. 

"Of course, silly." Puffy giggled.

"Come back any time, George." Niki smiled at him softly, "You're always welcome here."

 ***********  
**George groaned in relief as he got out the shower, the hot water soothing his sore muscles. Skating had felt amazing, so why did he still feel so empty? He ignored the thought, quickly getting dressed. When he stepped into the living room, Karl had already prepared dinner. George knew he needed to eat healthier, especially if he was meeting Alyssa tomorrow, but one final slice wouldn't kill him- right?

"How'd it go?" Sapnap questioned as he took a large bite, watching as Karl turned on the TV.

"Amazing, honestly." George grinned, "I haven't felt that good in a while."

"I'm really happy for you." Sapnap hummed, eyes narrowing at the TV again.

"Uh, Gogy?" Karl said nervously, "You might wanna see this."

George turned to face the TV, only for his heart to drop into his stomach. Puffy had recorded George earlier whilst he was skating and uploaded it to Youtube. Obviously, the video blew up and was now being shared on TV channels. He ignored Sapnap's look of concern as his hand fumbled around the table, looking for his phone as he kept his vision locked onto the video. 

"George..." Sapnap started, only to be shushed by George's frantic dialling. 

"Puffy!" George all but screamed, his face red in anger and anxiety, "What the fuck?"

"I'm _so_ sorry, George." Puffy sniffled, "I really didn't mean for it to get as big as it did, I only posted it on the rink's Youtube channel!"

"You still should've asked for my consent." George hissed as he angrily turned off the TV.

"I know," She paused, "I'm genuinely so sorry George."

George, at hearing how apologetic she sounded, calmed down. He was still rightfully mad, but yelling at her wouldn't resolve any problems, "It's fine, I'll talk to you later."

"Are you okay?" Karl brought him into a hug as George threw his phone down.

"No," George whispered before pushing Karl away- ignoring the shared look between his two friends, "I'm going to bed."

Maybe if he slept, he could pretend it was all a horrible dream.

*************

**Same Day - Florida, United States.**

**Tommy**

Hey Big Man. 

Have you seen that vid? 

Tubbo won't shut up about it

**Me**

no.

what is it?

please tell me i haven't been cancelled or smth

**Tommy**

Nah you're good

That one skater who got last place in the Prix last year

George or something

He skated to your Marionette dance lol

**Me**

what??

i'll check it out if 

Dream sighed as he opened up Youtube, eyeing his trending page nervously. Despite his ego and fame, Dream wasn't big on things like being on TV or trending, it made him nervous. Luckily for Dream, the 2nd trending video happened to be the one Tommy was speaking of. He hesitantly clicked on it, his eyes drawn to the skater's expressive eyes.

Dream hummed along to the music as he watched George skate, his eyes tracking his fluidity and the slight mess-ups he made. He was good, but not great- and Dream knew exactly how to make him great. He couldn't help the way his attention drew to the occasional slip of skin from underneath his flowy shirt or his flushed cheeks. Admittedly, Dream thought George was beautiful.

Dream knew what he had to do.

"Get ready, Patches!" He shouted at his cat, who looked very pissed off at being woken up, "We're going to England."

******************

**2 Days Later - London, United Kingdom.**

George sighed as the doorbell rang again, it having been the fifth time since he woke up. Both Karl and Spanap were out, a brief text on his phone saying they had gone to do errands and didn't want to disturb him. George felt a pang of guilt, not wanting to burden his friends any longer. 

"I'm coming, damn!" George groaned, shuffling sleepily towards the door.

As he opened it, a multicoloured cat rubbed around his ankles nuzzling him affectionately. It looked familiar, but pets weren't allowed in their apartment block, so it couldn't be any of their neighbours. George bent down to stroke it, pausing when a pair of black beaten-up old Nikes appeared in front of him. His eyes travelled upwards, pausing on a _very_ familiar mask.

"D-Dream?" George whispered, "Is this a prank?"

"I've decided," Dream drawled slowly, "I'm going to make you win the Grand Prix this year."

"Huh!?"

**Author's Note:**

> i hope you enjoyed! this took 5 hours to write lmao 
> 
> feel free to follow my twitter @bubbleqxeen for updates and info &<3
> 
> (I also need a beta, so if anyone's interested hmu!)
> 
> i would also like to mention that i do not ship the real life people these characters portray- and in no way shape or form endorse people doing so!


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